


Wild - Meeting

by constantlyinflux



Category: Sicario (Movies)
Genre: Alejandro is not, M/M, Matt is bored
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:26:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26372671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constantlyinflux/pseuds/constantlyinflux
Summary: He's bored, sprawled out in his chair, spinning a pen between his fingers, barely suppressing the urge to tilt his chair back. What a waste of time. He's supposed to be here as an advisor and they don't even have their jurisdiction figured out.
Relationships: Alejandro Gillick/Matt Graver
Kudos: 4





	Wild - Meeting

He's bored, sprawled out in his chair, spinning a pen between his fingers, barely suppressing the urge to tilt his chair back. What a waste of time. He's supposed to be here as an advisor and they don't even have their jurisdiction figured out.

2 hours and 14 minutes.




And they've done nothing but argue about whose fund is going to finance the third-party contractors. A fucking farce. He's not used to being dragged into the process this early and, honestly, he couldn't care less. If he'd been interested in licking the boots of those who got the money, he would have studied politics. Point him into a specific direction, yes. Present him with a problem he needs to solve, sure. Hell, he can get them the firepower and equipment they obviously need. He could even get them nice contracts with low interest rates, but please get your goddamn responsibilities figured out first!

He props his chin up on his hand to restrain himself from getting up and just leaving this room. Internally rolling his eyes at the heated words being thrown across the room, he looks over to Alejandro on the other side of the table. And that annoys him even more. He doesn't like to drag Alejandro into this. At all. Doesn't like to involve any operative in political bullshit and it's not common practice anyway. He gets easily irritated if someone tries to meddle with the way he handles his sources. With Alejandro, it's even worse. Overly protective with him right from the start, Matt now basically snarls at anyone even asking for him.

Alejandro meets his gaze and there's blatant amusement on his face. He's probably more used to this than Matt, but he doesn't need to be here, any open involvement with the government just plain unnecessary. And now Matt does roll his eyes, absentmindedly rubs his fingers across his beard. Alejandro's eyes dart down. Matt grins against his knuckles. He knows how much Alejandro loves that goatee.

Well, that could be interesting.

He leans back in his chair, clasps his hands behind his head and removes one of his sandals. A dirty grin tugs at his lips as he shifts closer to the edge of the chair, feigning attention by keeping his eyes focused on the front of the room. From the corner of his eyes though, he can see Alejandro looking at him when Matt's foot connects with his ankle. He licks his lips to keep that grin from spreading and lets his bare toes travel up under the hem of Alejandro's pant leg. When he feels warm skin, he lets his gaze slip back across the table. Alejandro looks up at him from under his lashes and Matt feels like he's staring at a wolf.

Heat pooling in his stomach and he holds that gaze. Never try to stare down a wolf. Damn. But he wants to drown in those eyes. Hungry. He almost imagines him to lick his lips.

The thrill of their situation fizzles up from his belly and heats his face and he loves the pressure of his pants against his slowly hardening cock. He tries to shift even closer without appearing like he’s completely lounging in his chair, teasing against Alejandro's skin as far as his ridden-up pant leg would allow him.

Alejandro’s gaze doesn’t leave him for a second and Matt is glad they’re sitting in the back of the room and everyone in the front is preoccupied with their debate. But there’s not much space between the chairs and the closeness excites him as much as the knowledge that Alejandro might not be amused about what he’s doing.

He drags his toes up the soft fabric of Alejandro’s dress pants and wants them gone entirely. Filthy images of sucking Alejandro off under that table flash up and he swallows, his brain going wild with the thought of him struggling to keep his calm while being completely at Matt’s mercy, unable to move his hips and just enduring the heat of Matt’s mouth around him, keeping still while Matt takes his time, dragging his lips and tongue excruciatingly slow up and down his hard cock.

Matt feels oversensitive, his clothes scraping against his skin with every breath, ears picking up his own breathing and swallowing. He stares at the wolf he’s invited to his bed, willing his mind to telegraph that thought across the table, that picture of him on his knees. Fuck, the thought of hearing Alejandro’s voice above him, totally ruined with the sensation, answering a dull question, breaking halfway through the sentence as Matt takes him deep, swallowing around him. Having him come in his mouth, thighs tensing, knuckles white on the table, riding that wave completely immobile. Matt’s sure that would drive Alejandro up the wall, having to hold his breath and grind his teeth together, holding back a deep moan.

Alejandro tilts his head, looking curious, amused, a wolf with a slightly cocked eyebrow. Still dangerous. God, he loves to take that man down, strip away all that cool, hard demeanour. He wants to show him to the world like that, bare and raw and utterly beautiful, flushed and sweaty and trembling, soul and heart and his beautiful brain spilled out in moans for everyone to hear. Look at that man. The beauty of him losing it. And just for Matt to touch.

Matt feels like everything is just plain written on his face and he blushes with excitement, sucks his bottom lip into his mouth to bite on it while he lets his toes travel up along the inside of Alejandro’s thigh, tease obvious in the way he licks his lips. Alejandro stares at his mouth, dark hunger etched deep into his features, then up into his eyes again. The danger there makes Matt take a deep breath, thoughts of having him writhing under his touch skidding over into fantasies of Alejandro holding him tight.

Alejandro leans back in his chair, testosterone coming off his body in waves so strong, Matt can almost taste it on his tongue. Fuck, he wants that, going from taking him apart to _fuck me please_ in an instant. He revels in that hot gaze Alejandro flashes at him. He’s clearly turned on too, but keeps his feelings in check, lips parted, brows slightly drawn together.

Alejandro splays his thighs in a blatant display of _That’s what you want? Then get down to work._ Matt’s heart skips a beat, then flutters in his chest like a little bird. His toes dance across the fabric spread tight over Alejandro’s thigh, skidding up but not quite touching him where he wants, teasing around where he feels his pants starting to bulge. Alejandro’s brows tick together and Matt almost hears the _Fucking tease!_ breathed into his ear. He bites back a grin and looks to the front of the room, brain wriggling through the stream of words to realise they’re still blabbering about the same redundant topics. 

Alejandro shifts in his seat and Matt wrestles down another smug grin. Having Alejandro squirm in his chair is the highlight of this dull day. Just to be on the safe side, he withdraws his foot a little, resting warm against Alejandro’s thigh. He feels the muscles tense under his foot and looks back with an amused smile of _That eager, huh?_ when he feels his foot slip from Alejandro's thigh and sock-clad toes touch against his own leg.

He stares, and arches his eyebrow at Alejandro who doesn't seem to be affected by that at all. He watches Matt like absolutely nothing is going on under that table while his foot hooks behind Matt’s leg, dragging up his calf and pushing his thighs apart to press down on his cock. He's sitting upright in his chair, fucking long legs, while Matt wants nothing but to sink down in his seat, his heart picking up pace.

Fuck. He pulls his chair as close to the table as he can, trying to be discreet with the scratching of metal legs on linoleum. He shifts to the edge of the seat, splays his legs and cants his hips, pressing against that teasing foot. His hands start to fiddle with the pen again and he feels shivers of excitement run down his spine at the way Alejandro looks at him, intense, without blinking, a wolf watching his prey. Alejandro dips his chin just slightly, gaze shifting to hot and _I'm going to make you come so hard you'll forget everything._

Matt swallows hard, that foot rubbing up and down his cock with constant pressure, and he seriously thinks about how he'll manage to hide a dark patch on his khaki pants when that meeting is over.

“Matt?”

His heart stops.

He blinks, looks to the front. People are watching. Seconds turn into small eternities, heat creeping up his neck, his brain a frantic storm of thoughts. He sits up a little.

“Yeah?”

Put as much confidence into that syllable as you possibly can. Your move, not mine. He waits, trying to ignore that Alejandro's foot hasn't stopped moving. He thinks his brain is probably going to have a major meltdown every second now.

“Well, what about the fees on cross-national contracting?”

Matt hums and picks up his glasses. He takes his time putting them on and flipping through the pages of the excerpt in front of him, waits them out, all the time having a foot pressed against his cock, still hard, refusing to be even remotely affected by the shock still resonating in Matt’s body.

“I mean if it's just a one-way thing, we can probably try to push that over to JSOC or…?”

Matt slowly nods at that, fishing keywords from the pages and waits a couple of seconds, listening to the complete silence in the room and resisting the urge to close his eyes at the way Alejandro _fucking curls his toes_ , before he looks at Jim Durrey at the front of the room again, face a mask of plain rejection.

“I don't think that’ll work, Jim.”

He lets go of the page and looks at the other man. Shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head.

“This?” He points at the paper. “You won't get anything with this. This is uh—”

Alejandro's foot presses flat against the inside of his thigh and up between his legs.

“Uh—”

Rubs up all the way to his cock again. His brain short-circuits.

“Umm, we… we'd need to, ah…”

Dragging along the length of his cock and back so very slowly. Matt blinks down at the page again, swallows, heart hammering in his chest. He'll not look at Alejandro, no, although it's like his gaze is drawn there like he's the flaming sun.

Up and back. Hard.

He swallows again, tries to get his breathing under control, sweat breaking out against the back of his neck. Shakes his head again and focuses on Jim sitting at the other end of the table. Steady. Concentrates on his annoyance to be here in the first place.

“Look, Jimmy, as long as we don’t get a go for this whole thing, I don’t see the point in even discussing this.”

Please. Just don’t let him look as stupid as this sounds to his ears. Foot pressing lightly. Like a praise. _Good work on that one._ Matt raises his eyebrows, drops his pen on the stack of paper and leans back in his chair, pushing his hips forward under the table. He keeps the eye contact with Jim and forces his body to calm the fuck down, would you please.

Jim looks at him with furrowed brows and Matt knows that’s it, but…

“Well, first of all, I don’t think we should—”

And there it is again. Back to debate. A guy from Analysis intervenes with a prepared set of counterarguments but the talk immediately slips away from Matt in the back, circling around their own universe of numbers and politics again. Matt exhales silently through pursed lips and relaxes, allows himself to close his eyes for a second and sink down into that arousing feeling of Alejandro’s foot steadily rubbing up and down his aching cock.

A soft sigh escapes his lips and his eyes snap open, staring directly into Alejandro’s. Nobody seems to have noticed anything, discussion becoming heated again. Alejandro’s gaze is simply intense, setting fire on Matt’s skin, burning his eyes. Anybody looking at him would think he either wanted to kill Matt or fuck him right on that table. God, he wants his words. All of them. Right now. But the silence flaring between them is even more intoxicating. Matt feels like he’s being undressed layer by layer although those eyes never move across his body. The hot friction against his cock and Alejandro’s gaze like two focal points holding him in place. He’s transfixed, thinks they must look like being in a different space entirely in this room, shifted into a parallel universe, staring at each other with a deep hunger and even deeper desire burning through their bodies.

He realises he’s looking at Alejandro over the brim of his glasses and a knowing grin spreads on his face. He doesn’t hold it back this time, beyond caring, too caught up in the moment. He cocks an eyebrow. _I know this turns you on like hell._ Alejandro loves his glasses. He takes them off and casually touches one of the temple tips against his lips, biting softly, tongue flicking against it. He’s almost giggling inwardly, but the way Alejandro tilts his head down, looking at him from below, the way his face darkens and his tongue works behind slightly parted lips, the way his foot presses down hard tells him he’s fucking right. He grins, the tip between his teeth.

He sees Alejandro swallow and look down at the table to a stack of business cards not far from his hand. He grabs one, turns it around and scribbles down a short note on the back. Matt puts the glasses down and furrows his brow.

Alejandro places the card on the table, written words down, gaze coming up to Matt again with something of an amused expression, and flicks it across to him. He lounges back in his chair with an easy sensuality, just the smallest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Matt hesitates, suspicious, takes the card and turns it around.

_I want to fuck you._

He nearly swallows his tongue, stares at Alejandro’s neat cursive, familiar long lines and narrow letters. He puts the card back down, face up.

Charles Vaughn, MBA  
Financial Consultant  
Central Intelligence Agency

His gaze flits across the room, back to the card under his fingertips, stares at Charles Vaughn, MBA, then at Alejandro Gillick, Esq., who hides his grin behind his knuckles, eyes glowing with amusement and the promise that he meant those words. Toes circling around aching flesh.

Matt smiles at him, openly. He feels his chest lose a little bit of that sexual tension and shift into something more gentle, letting him breathe deeply. God, he’s so in love with this man. And he tells him, mouthing _I love you_.

Alejandro answers him with a soft smile and a nudge of his foot against his thigh, laugh lines visible in his face.

Matt drops his hand under the table and on Alejandro’s foot, slipping under the hem of his pant leg, palm brushing up his leg as far as he can reach, then back down his calf where it stays, fingers slightly digging into the muscle, thumb pressing circles into skin as they watch each other, hunger fading to a tenderness that spreads through Matt’s body. He feels like he’s sinking into warm water, completely engulfed, and he breathes in and it’s not suffocating him, it’s opening up something deep inside him, something only Alejandro has ever touched.

And he sees his feelings mirrored back at him in Alejandro’s expression. Similar but different. He’s been there before, but Matt knows he’s reaching something else in him, something his wife hadn’t touched, and he feels no satisfaction at this, just as he feels no jealousy at knowing there are places she had been and he would never be, places that are forever locked now. She’s had him and now Matt has him. Something so complicated has never felt so easy before.

Alejandro tilts his head, inquiring, and Matt blinks away the emotions welling up, a sheepish smile on his lips while he strokes Alejandro’s calf under the table. Alejandro watches him with the softest of expressions and Matt feels like he can see right through him.

“Okay, that’s it for today. Thanks for your input, ladies and gentlemen.”

And the spell is broken. Matt inhales deeply and Alejandro withdraws his foot. Hidden grins, discretely putting on shoes again, and Matt wonders how he’s supposed to leave this room with his cock not really satisfied at the turn of events.

Alejandro stands, looking as if nothing has happened. Matt catches his gaze, takes the business card, Charles Vaughn, MBA, and tucks it into the pocket of his shirt.

_My room or yours?_

He mouths, mischief spreading on his face.


End file.
